His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. “I can only be a few years older than you, and I have been married four years. In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought. The windows were still darkened—perhaps she was not home yet. So he shut his eyes. To his intense satisfaction, Melusine bit her lip on a tremor.
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